Exploring New Horizons
by gatepirate61
Summary: Captain Jack and his crew aboard the Black Pearl are thrown into the futurepresent day where he meets a descendant of Will and Elizabeth.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer; Characters aren't mine, never will be. I wish, but they're not.

Credit to Angela, AKA CaptainJackSparrow…Savvy? for writing Part 2, and possibly more in the future, I'll write to let you know if she does.

Author's note; Any and all constructive criticism is welcomed. This is my first fan fic ever, and I hope you guys all like it. I've never written anything in my life that wasn't assigned by some boring teacher about something like the photosynthesis of oak trees, or something equally…yawns ok I'll shut up now, but tell me what ya think. Feed me!

Part 1

Captain Jack Sparrow looked out to the port that he and his crew were about to dock the Black Pearl on. They had been at sea for days now and were grimy, tired, and hungry as provisions were running short. Morale was slightly improved in the last few hours due to the prospect of shore leave.

He yelled to the crew; "Prepare to release anchor! Lower the sails!".

He looked towards shore and decided to head below deck to retrieve a few shillings to pay for the night out at the tavern.A steady grating noise seemed to appear out of nowhere as a large metal machine suspended in air floated above them. At first no one else seemed to notice, but as it got louder a few members of the crew looked above and almost dropped the sails on deck. It seemed to disappear as quickly as it had arrived, so it was dismissed as hallucinations due to hunger and sleep deprivation by many.

Captain Jack rubbed his eyes and squinted towards the harbor. _It must be after effects from tha' rum I drank earlier_; he thought, for he swore that he saw a few very tall buildings that seemed to stretch towards the sky, and very large green statue of a strange robed lady holding a tablet and a torch. A second later the buildings and statue disappeared and changed back to a normal, bustling port full of merchants and sailors. The Captain began to have second thoughts about his sanity... _This is very different from me usual hallucinations...maybe Gibbs be right and I am a bit daft..._

The vision appeared again, and did not shimmer as it had last time. Captain Jack looked around him and saw many of his crew rubbing their eyes and doing the same as he had before with confused expressions on their faces. _Maybe this isn't a hallucination..._he thought.

They were approaching shore faster now, and were almost ready to dock. The entire crew was completely bamboozled now and had no idea what was happening. There weren't many alternatives at this point but to sail to shore, so that's what the crew set out to do. They pulled into one of the landings and began to tie the ship to dock.

A very stern-faced man in a stiff blue suit took notice of the Black Pearl and it's surly, filthy crew and walked towards the ship in a very quick and determined manner.

"Just what do you think you're doing! Who _are_ all of you, and why have you brought this filthy wreck? It looks as if it belongs in the junkyard!"

Captain Jack Sparrow began to feel a little indignant. _This is a strange port, I'll give it that, but that don't be giving this man, whoever he be, the right to insult me ship! _After all, after he got the Pearl back from Barbossa, he had taken the time to replace the sails and swab the deck, a few things that his former first mate had neglected after he mutinied and took the Pearl.

"I be Captain Jack Sparrow, mate, and this be my ship, the Black Pearl, the fastest in the entire Spanish Main."

The man looked angry, for what reason Jack couldn't imagine. "I don't care who you are, this is a private port, and you have to call ahead if you want to keep your _ship_ here," he spat.

"Listen, mate. I'll pay to keep me ship here, but I will not suffer any insults to me ship or crew. Now how much will it be?"

Part 2

The man looked at Jack with a piercing, murderous glare. "As I said before, this is a private port, and can be used by prior arrangement only. No exceptions!"

Jack squinted at the man, "You look familiar…have I seen you before?"

"If I'd ever seen you before I would have had you arrested on the grounds of disturbing the peace and trespassing on private property!"

_…Well, that was a nice thing for someone to say…"_Who be you wanting to turn me in to?" Jack asked.

"The police!" the man was getting so frustrated at Jack, he looked as if he was about to slap him across the face. The Captain had had much experience being slapped previously, and didn't look forward to the prospect too much.

"The police? Who be the police?" Jack was perplexed. He had never heard of such a thing, and had no notion of why they had the right to arrest him. The man looked Jack in the eyes and leaned in close to his face and said;

"The people that put you in jail cells when you violate the law! Now get this filthy ship away from my dock!"  
The crew, as starved and parched as they were, got back on the ship and moved it out to sea to find a place to dock.

"What are we supposed to do Jack, we're starved and we need to get off this ship as soon as possible! We haven't had shore leave in months!" one of the crew stated matter-of-factly. Mr. Cottons parrot sang a song…that Jack had taught him when they made way from Port Royal.

_That not be the type of song I be wantin to hear at this point, I think I be hallucinating all too much. My crew, meself, and me friends parrot 'ave been starved for weeks at a time and lonely for month. I don't think a second mutiny would serve well. I be needin to think of somethin' that we can do, and fast._ Jack Sparrow thought to himself. He had the crew dock the ship as close to shore as possible, yet away from prying eyes and these insufferable "private" ports.

The entire crew walked out into the busy shore-side New York street. Cars screeched as they swerved to avoid them and people swore and shouted indignantly; "Get off the road you morons! Get out of the way!" One of the Jack'screw unsheathed his sword and stabbed the man clean through in annoyance.

The police arrived at the road and quickly surrounded CaptainJack Sparrow's crew and arrested all of them quickly, surprise having a large factor in their success. Jack looked at one of the policemen standing guard while the other officers processed paperwork and tried to obtain some form of identification from the pirates in front of them.

"What makes you able to be takin' us away?" The officer looked at Jack and showed him his badge.

"And what proves that of why you be binding us up like this? We 'ardly did anything wrong, we've been about our own business, haven't we, lads?"

A chorus of "Aye!" thundered over the sounds of the afternoon traffic.

"I'm an officer of the law, this is my duty", The officer replied.

Part 3

"That be one strange lookin' uniform for an 'officer of th' law'. Where be your wig?" Captain Jack asked. He motioned to his crew behind his back, telling them silently to be prepared to draw their swords and pistols.

The policeman looked at the surrounding officers with an amusedsmirk on his face. "And why, might I ask, would I need a wig?"

"I'm not all that sure meself. Always seemed like a stupid idea to me." The Captain seemed to have a funny twitch in his neck to the policeman as he silently signaled for his crew to move to the left, so their backs would be towards the high noonday sun.

"Ooookay then." The police officer turned to his colleagues. " I think we may have the need for some restraining jackets over here."

"Restraining?" Captain Jack looked incredulous. "Now, gentlemen, there be no need for that. We all be men of our word here, and we'll cooperate to the fullest. Won't we, lads?"

A deafening chorus of the word "Aye!" could be heard on and around the docks quite clearly.

"I'm sorry, erm, _sir_, but that's the law. All prisoners must be restrained until they achieve bail, or until the judge sees fit to free them." The policeman seemed a bit confused at the behavior of these odd strangers. Maybe they were from some sort of radical reenactment group?

"Well, that just won't be satisfactory, will it lads? NOW!"

The pirates leaped to action, taking advantage of the sun's position, freeing themselves of their surprised and blinded captors and quickly disarming them. They held the frightened men at the ends of their cutlasses, smugly satisfied that they had gained the upperhand.

Most of the officers were new to the force, and had only been assigned to the area because of the assurance that it would be an easy assignment. They hadn't had much experience, and were quaking in their boots at the prospect of what might happen to them, their attention drawn to the tips of the pirates glistening blades.

"Now, gentlemen. What were ye sayin' about restraining us?" Captain Jack knew that they really shouldn't be wasting time talking to these men, but he couldn't resist gloating. "Personally, I didn't think it was that great of an idea meself. Maybe we can reach an accord? How about _we_ restrain _you_ until we see fit? Men, throw them in the brig."

"Aye, sir." Ten or so of Jack's crewmembers motioned to drag their new prisoners to the brig.

"We'll be figurin' out what to do with them later. Meanwhile, Mr.Gibbs, Mr. Cotton,and Anamaria, ye be with me. The rest of all ye scabrous dogs guard the Pearl, and wait for us to return. We're goin' to try and find some rations and clothes so we can be gettin' away from this strange place as soon as humanly possible, and back to familiar waters of the Caribbean."

Captain Jack Sparrow, Mr.Gibbs, Anamaria, and with his loudly squawking parrot were definitely a shock to the work-driven New Yorkers on their daily auto-pilot. Living in New York, they had seen a fair variety of oddballs and street urchins, but this was something else. But, of course, they had never been exposed to the likes of Captain Jack Sparrow.

Part 4

People on their daily commute stopped dead in their tracks as a gaggle of four pirates walked down the sidewalk in an easy, practiced gait. Most of them were not surprised by the state of dress of the strangers, as many homeless people wore close to the same type of clothing worn by the four, but by the pistols and sharp-looking cutlasses at their waists. A second glance was warranted by many to Captain Jack Sparrow's dreadlocks and kohl-darkened eyes. The Captain lead the small pack down the street towards a row of small shops. He stopped just outside the door of a small, old-fashioned shop with 18th century decorations and items on display.

The manager of the store, Mr. Halloway was a small slight man with wire-rimmed spectacles and a mop of dark brown hair. His glasses were too large for his face and made him look smaller than he really was. He looked up from his new book on the living habits of early-eighteenth century pirates and almost toppled off his chair and knocked over his bottle of Pepsi from the shock of seeing what couldn't possibly be true. The man standing in front of him was the spitting image of the pirate captain in his book-Captain Jack Sparrow. There was a depiction of an early WANTED poster in the chapter about village life with his picture. _No, that can't be right…I've worked in this shop for much too long. Being around all these period pieces and artifacts are beginning to affect my sanity. He's probably just involved in a reenactment of early life in the 18th century. _The manager had almost convinced himself that he wasn't losing his sanity when he heard the man in front of him speak. The confident, almost cocky mannered man spoke eloquently, like an educated man, yet somehow with a certain roughness that made you come to the belief that he hadn't had an easy life by most standards of the modern person.

"Excuse me there, mate, but ye wouldn't perchance happen to know where be the nearest shipwright, would ye?"

This time, Mr. Halloway did knock over his Pepsi. Not only did he notice the speech of the man was very close to that of the average villager a few hundred years ago, but he saw the cutlass and pistol fastened to his well-worn leather belt.

"Erm, uh, sir, it's-it's illegal to carry weapons in puh-public in the state of new-New York", stuttered Mr. Halloway.

"Hmmm. Well, me and me mates here 'aven't been 'round here before, and had no knowledge of any such law. We're going to just be pretending that you hadn't said that, alright there, mate?" Captain Jack stated this while calmly cleaning remaining bits of rust and dried blood off of his trusty cutlass. He looked down his nose at the man trying to regain his composure in front of him with a confident smirk. He couldn't remember a time when a person had failed to understand his "point of view". This man was certainly no exception.

_Ooooooh, why, why did I let that meddling sister of mine convince me to go on that blind date? First rule of dating; never let yourself be set up by relatives. They all say they only have your "best interests" at heart, and therefore set you up with someone completely SAFE, so that you're guaranteed to have a perfectly uneventful, boring evening. Unless, of course, you follow my brilliant plan, and drink three bottles of wine at your date's expense. That way, your evening isn't uneventful and boring, it's uneventful, boring, embarrassing, and painful the following morning. Why can't I ever meet anyone remotely interesting? Unfortunately, I can't dwell on that now. I'm about three hours late for work, and if I somehow don't turn up _again_ there is no way I'm gonna through the week without another lovely pink slip to add to my records. I need coffee…_thought Monica Turner as she woke up from last nights drunken stupor. She clutched her head as the aftereffects of last night's date-if it could be called that sprung into full effect. The room spun as she slowly sat up on the disheveled, lumpy mattress of her dingy apartment.

Her parents had never approved of her choice to go and live in the city. They had told her that she would never make it on her own in such a large and overcrowded city. How could she possibly take care of herself and maintain an apartment when she daily forgot to feed the chickens on the family farm? This constant criticism and subtle hints at her incompetence made her even more obstinate to refuse financial help and requests to "come back to the farm", even though she was struggling to pay rent each month and had trouble showing up on time for her part time job at the local bar; Al's Pub.

She knew she was on the brink of being fired, and it was only the fact that her womanizing, sexist boss enjoyed pinching her behind every time she walked by in the required uniform that was standard to every waitress who worked there. This "uniform" was made up of an extremely short denim skirt, and too-tight white T-shirt that clearly showed her bra underneath, and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. All the waiters had normal, conservative uniforms compromised of slacks and collared shirts. She hated her job, but knew she couldn't quit.

All of the restaurants within reasonable walking distance (she couldn't afford a cab, and didn't own a car) of her apartment didn't need help, or told her she didn't have enough experience. _How am I supposed to "gain experience" if I can't get a job anywhere? _She thought.

Her boss wasn't the only problem she had at her Al's. The frequent clientele had something to be lacked. Most of them hit on her frequently and were almost always drunk. At least they had an excuse for acted so appallingly, but it was the ones who weren't drunk that bothered her. This wasn't exactly the safest part of New York City, and the crime rate was higher than most areas. You never know what kind of person could be lurking behind the day's newspaper. Not that a newspaper would be hard to find in the Pub, as the floors were littered with every kind of trash, and hardly ever cleaned, except when the waiters and waitresses couldn't stand the mess any longer. Al never saw the point of hiring a cleaning staff. Then again, he never saw the point of much, except drinking excessive amounts of booze and making money. Monica was really beginning to regret her choice to live in the city.

_No matter how bad my job is, it makes for a living. And if I don't want to lose it, I better get moving._ She groaned as she wrenched her way through the motions of getting ready to leave the house. How had her life got this way? She used to be a promising high school student with straight A's. She was considered a shoo-in for most Ivy League schools. Why had she given it up for this?


	2. Chapter 2

Part 5

"Y-yes, of course, sir, now what can I do for you?" George Halloway asked, trembling so bad that his desk was shaking.

"As ye can see, me sword here isn't in the best o' repair. I'll need it properly cleaned and sharpened, the same with me mates swords." the Captain stated simply, giving an pointed glance to the sign above the door that read; REPAIR AND CLEANING: $5.00.

Mr. Halloway had gotten himself somewhat under control, seeing that this man didn't seem to intend to harm him. "Of course. And when would you need it by?"

"Me and me mates here," Captain Sparrow nodded his head towards Anamaria, Mr.Gibbs, and "Were plannin' on headin' over to that pub down the road from here. We should be out in around three hours."

The stutter returned to Mr.Halloway's voice. He wasn't sure he could finish four swords in only three hours, as he had mainly worked with smaller, more delicate things in the past, but this man in front of him didn't seem like the type of man that would understand this. He would have to do his best. "And wh-who should I m-make this order out to?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow."

George knocked over an old spyglass on a nearby table as he tripped over his wastebasket. There was no way that he had heard right. "C-could you repeat that, sir?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow. Are ye deaf, man?" Jack was becoming annoyed. This man didn't seem to be very intelligent.

Mr.Halloway thought he must have been going insane. Either that, or this man _was_ involved in a reenactment of sorts. He decided to believe the latter. It was safer than doubting his sanity. "N-no, I'm not deaf, just a little hard of hearing," he said, pointing to his hearing aid that he didn't really need, but wore it as a sort of security blanket. He hated it when people needed him to repeat something that he had said clear as day, and didn't want to be a hypocrite, so he convinced his doctor that he had hearing problems. He nearly had himself convinced. Even though George wouldn't admit it to himself, he was a bit of a hypochondriac. He had been on 5 different placebo pills for the last eight years, unbeknownst to him. He had been told that they were for various "problems" ranging from ADD to blood clots.

"Aye, then here be th' swords. Here be part payment now, and ye'll get the rest when we come back," Jack said, placing 2 shillings on the counter as he headed for the door. He believed in stealing only when you needed it, not all the time. He still had a few morals left.

"Yes, sir," George said, not bothering to look at the money placed on the counter as he watched the odd assortment of people walk through his door.

Part 6

Monica walked into Al's Pub in her "uniform". She had managed to get there 10 minutes early on account of her elderly neighbor across the hall lending her his Buick. One of Monica's co-workers was already accounted for; Phoebe, a wiry, older yet quirky woman who was always optimistic, no matter what curves life threw her. She had worked at Al's the longest, and knew how to deal with customers without running the risk of being fired, and somehow maintaining her dignity at the same time. Phoebe, along with the cashier, Mike, were Monica's reasons for staying at Al's. If they weren't there, she didn't think she'd be able to continue to work there without losing her sanity or being fired. Mike was quiet, young, and had a silent "aura" about him, as Phoebe said, that somehow demanded respect. He was a smaller guy, but he never got any flack from anyone about it. There was just something about him.

Monica set to work setting tables as Phoebe worked in the back, starting up the stove and oven, getting ready for the morning "rush", which consisted of three or four of their regulars. At Al's, the morning didn't start until 1:00 in the afternoon. She heard the bells on the door jingle and looked up to see possibly the strangest assortment yet that she had seen in Al's Pub; four unique individuals dressed in many layers of rags and cloth. Unique was _definitely _an understatement. Her first impression was that of the typical New York street urchin; homeless and looking for a cheap, possibly free meal, thinking that she would have to watch out later to make sure they didn't walk out on the bill. A second glance caused her to change her mind. They weren't street urchins…they looked almost like…pirates. Kind of like the ones she had seen on her occasional trips to Disneyland as a child. The strangest and most captivating of all was the man at the front of the group, who seemed to be a leader of sorts. He had a quiet, confident, almost cocky air about him that made you realize that he wasn't one to be reckoned with. He seemed dangerous, yet you felt perfectly safe around him at the same time.

Monica began to feel uneasy. The last time she had thought like this about a man, she had found herself knocked out on her couch with her apartment ransacked and her TV and stereo system gone. She _still _hadn't gotten a new TV, due to the fact that she still had rent to pay. She would have to be careful around this guy. The people with him didn't exactly seem like pushovers either. They looked a bit scary to her.

Captain Jack Sparrow walked into the pub with and Gibbs at his side. Anamaria had gone back to the Pearl to tell the crew that they wouldn't be back until later that night, and to "purchase" some food and supplies they had seen on the docks near where they had anchored the Black Pearl. He noticed that it wasn't quite the cleanest place he had seen, but then again, he had been in much, much worse. After all, he was a pirate. But he didn't mind the filth at all. It reminded him a bit of Tortuga, where he wished he was at the moment.

He saw a few waiters and waitresses setting up for the day, milling around about their business. There was quite the assortment of people that worked here. He could see an overweight cook putting on his chef's hat in the back, a small boy who looked to be no more than 16 years old who was just arriving, a thin, wiry woman who looked like a few of the more lenient bartenders in Tortuga, and the most captivating of all, a young, raven-haired woman who reminded him very much of his old friend Elizabeth. Elizabeth had had light brown, almost blonde hair, not black like this woman, but she had the same stunning green eyes and held herself with the same air.

Jack could not help but notice that the waitresses wore "uniforms" very close to the ones worn in Tortuga, although they showed a lot more in the leg area. He watched as the black haired girl went to serve her first customer of her shift. It was an older man with an unshaven beard and a look as if he lived in dirt, which was not the case, as you could tell from his state of dress. He was dressed in a gray sports coat, a black T-shirt, and pressed khaki pants. Jack got an uneasy feel from the man. He didn't trust him. The Captain had lived among scum throughout his life, and was a good judge of character.

Monica went to serve her first customer, one of their more recent "regulars". He had been coming 'round for about 3 weeks now, and always ordered the same thing; coffee, black, with eggs over-easy and blackened toast. Today something seemed different about him. He wasn't sitting in his usual place by the window on the end of the bar, but in the corner of the Pub. He seemed hunched over, and had a wild look in his eyes.

"Excuse me, sir, will it be the usual today?" she asked, trying to get over her uneasiness of the man.

"Yes." He answered simply, looking blatantly about nine inches south of her face.

Monica left to give the order to the cook, and help Mike, who had just got there, set up the bar taps. In about fifteen minutes they would be getting a slew of customers waiting for their afternoon beers, even if it was still quite early in the day. She saw the strange, pirate-looking man watching her. It wasn't a leer, but more of a protective gaze. She caught herself staring back.


End file.
